Fascination

Lovely is the pine-grove,
With the stream eddying below,
A clear sky and a snow-clad bank,
Fishing-boats in the reach beyond.
And she, like unto jade,
Slowly-sauntering, as I follow through the dark wood,
Now moving on, now stopping short,
Far away in the deep valley
My mind quits its tenement, and is in the past,
Vague, and not to be recalled,
As though before the glow of the rising moon,
As though before the glory of the autumn.
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Sikong Tu
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